


Chemical Spill

by fatale_distraction



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Drabble, F/F, Fluff, Fluffy, boobs, science inaccuracies probably, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatale_distraction/pseuds/fatale_distraction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested science prompt: Hydrochloric Acid spill and emergency shower. "If I’d known you looked this good wet and shirtless, I’d have dumped hydrochloric acid on you much earlier in the semester."<br/>I am absolutely awful at even the most basic science, so if there are inaccuracies please forgive them. Other than that, constructive criticism is always welcome! It helps me improve as a writer, so have at it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chemical Spill

Spending the evening working on a project in the science lab wasn’t how you had originally envisioned your night going, but you could hardly argue with the opportunity to watch Jillian Holtzmann working in her element. 

Watching your classmate’s carefully chaotic process was like watching an artist, or some kind of particularly demented magician. Behind her tinted glasses (which you were fairly certain were not proper regulation safety goggles) her eyes were alight with interest and the color rose high in her cheeks as she measured and mixed various volatile chemicals as if they were as harmless as flour and water. Her usual goofy smirk was temporarily replaced by an expression of extreme concentration and excitement, brows furrowed over fiercely attentive blue eyes. Her lips continuously went through a cycle of pursing, biting, and sticking out her tongue and chewing it as she worked. 

Holtzmann was so engrossed in her painstaking yet somehow haphazard methods that she only noticed the beaker full of clear, pungent liquid at her side when her elbow accidentally nudged it onto its side, splashing the strong-smelling contents all over the front of your shirt. It soaked through and immediately your skin began to tingle and burn painfully. Holtzmann let out a strangled squawk of alarm and leaped off of her stool, knocking it over backwards.

“Ooooohhhh my god!!” she babbled, grabbing your arm and hauling you out of your seat and dragging you bodily over to the corner of the room where the emergency chemical spill shower was located. You stumbled into the open stall in confusion, protesting belatedly as she seized the hem of your shirt and pulled it up over your head in one impressively swift jerk, leaving you shivering in nothing but your bra as the chilly lab air hit your skin. You clapped your arms around yourself as goosebumps sprang up and spread across your exposed flesh. 

With far more excitement in her eyes than you felt was entirely warranted, and more than you were quite frankly comfortable with, Holtzmann yanked gleefully down on the shower handle. A gush of icy water drenched you, soaking through your remaining clothes and plastering your hair to your forehead. You gasped at the shock of the pressurized water, striking you like frozen little needles. 

After you were sufficiently saturated, the shower clicked back off. Through the rivulets of water streaming down your face and dripping into your eyes, you saw Holtz grinning triumphantly at you.

“Fixed it!” she announced brightly.

Shivering pathetically, you stepped out of the shower. Holtzmann slung an arm around your bare shoulders, careless of the fact that you were still soaking wet. While you glowered moistly at her, Jillian’s eyes fixated pointedly on the bulge of your breasts over your arms and the plain black bra you wore, goofy grin not fading in the slightest. If anything, you could swear it got broader and even more toothy, eyebrows raised appreciatively.

“Nice, uh…whaddaya call it…decolletage?” she asked, gesturing with her middle finger to your cleavage. 

“Did you just refer to my boobs using an 18th century colloquialism?” you demanded through chattering teeth. Her side was nice and solid and warm, so despite your considerable frustration and indignance, both at being stuck and soaked in a freezing cold laboratory with no shirt and at being leered at under the circumstances, you leaned closer to her, drawn by her warmth of body and character.

“Ya know,” Holtzmann mused thoughtfully, dismissing your complaint without addressing it. “If I’d known you looked this good wet and shirtless, I’d have dumped hydrochloric acid on you much earlier in the semester.” Her eyes met yours and she lifted her brows matter-of-factly. “And more often.”

“Give me your jacket,” you bit out, flushing red to the tips of your ears.

Holtz complied without complaint, shrugging out of her blazer and draping it gallantly over your trembling shoulders. It hung loosely on you and didn’t do much more than your bra in terms of covering your chest, but it was warm from wear and smelled oddly of hydraulic fluid and some kind of flowery, spicy shampoo. Holtz gave you another appreciative up-and-down, then casually smoothed your wet hair back from your face before fairly prancing back to the abandoned lab table.  
“Well, I think that’s more than enough for today,” she announced in some kind of weird impression you were entirely unfamiliar with and collecting her things.   
“You think?” you asked sardonically.

Either she didn’t hear you or she chose to ignore your comment, because she straightened up, turned to look at you with those round blue eyes, and said, “You can keep that, you know,” pointing to the blazer before slinging her bag over one shoulder and heading for the door. As she passed near you, she paused and patted you fondly on the cheek with a grin and frustrating bite of her lip. “That’s a good color on you.”

As you watched the door swing shut behind her, you couldn’t tell which she had meant; the jacket, or the vibrant red blush burning across your face like acid.


End file.
